United Italy Marks Its 100th Year
I drove back to Modena-in our sedan.
A man stopped me in the hotel lobby.
"I'm George Arents, Jr., and I help distrib
ute the Ferrari in the United States," he said.
"It happens I brought my own car over this
trip. If you've nothing better to do, let's go
drive it."
Mr. Arents is a brave man. He did not ask
me for a driver's license or even inquire as
to my eyesight. He merely drove the great
pulsating coupe out to the Autostrada and
turned it over to me.
I should tell you that there are police prowl
cars on the Autostrada, but no speed limit.
You get tickets for using the wrong lane or
letting your cow wander onto the road. For
passing a police car going as fast as it can,
dramas as Caesar's triumphant return from Gaul
and Mark Antony's funeral oration. Here, in the
burning-of-Rome sequence, lights pick out the
you get envious huzzas from the policemen.
I put Mr. Arents's Ferrari into low gear
and ran inexpertly through the four-forward
speed sequence. Singing along in high, I stole
a look at the speedometer. "A hundred and
fifty kilometers," I remarked. "Why, that's
more than 90 miles an hour."
"Pardon me," said Mr. Arents, relaxed
against the pigskin upholstery. "The speed
ometer is calibrated in miles an hour, not
kilometers."
The Ferrari's disk brakes, which in modern
sports cars replace the family auto's drum
brakes, brought me to a halt before the paral
ysis of terror set in.
"You drive, please," I managed to say.
Jim and I left the Autostrada again at Bo
triple columns of the Temple of Castor and Pollux,
restored Senate Building (center), and Temple of
Antoninus and Faustina (right).
KODACHROMEBY JAMES P. RIAIR (O NATInNa AI. -anul enrlTv
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